


The Christmas Miracle

by pink_lemonade (lamourche)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always a girl Stiles, Beta Derek Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, F/M, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Not Beta Read, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Succubi & Incubi, a kind of - the pack returns from college for christmas break au, boyd and erica are a side pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 09:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11415489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamourche/pseuds/pink_lemonade
Summary: The incubus had Stiles pressed up against a tree on the far side of the clearing, one hand on her throat. Derek had to fight the instinct to howl and charge.“He won’t be able to follow you,” the incubus taunted, running a finger down Stiles' cheek.She barked a laugh.  “You've spent a lot of time around werewolves, I guess.”Derek smiled.  If he wasn’t so worried about his ability to lift his own body weight across a fucking meadow, he would have been happy to hear Stiles knew he would never abandon her.





	The Christmas Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure no one reads Sterek anymore, and if they do, they aren't looking for alwaysagirl!stiles type of Sterek. But I found it in my wips, and I just thought what the hell.  
> Also, please know that I get what is problematic about alwaysagirl!stiles and boy!Derek. The show didn't just bait sterek. It actively used sterek fans for publicity, ratings and page views. It then ignored the sterek fandom whenever it thought it made sense. The way Teen Wolf used the sterek fandom is like a master class in shitting on your fans.  
> I've just always seen this story as fem!stiles, but if your response is screw you and your heteronormative bullshit, I get it.

Derek couldn't look away, as much as he knew he should.  Stiles writhed on his bed.  Her wrists bound by leather cuffs secured to the headboard with chains.  Her head thrown back. The pale skin of her neck revealed beneath her long, tangled brown hair.  The sound of her pounding heartbeat drowned out all other noise. 

The only scent in the room was Stiles’ single-minded lust, and it would linger for days.   Christ, he already thought of her at night. He scrubbed a hand down his face. This was getting ridiculous.    

It was too much for him.  At the same time it wasn’t enough.  Stiles wanted him, but it wasn’t real.  Derek clenched his fists, retracting his claws before they could draw blood.

Fucking incubus.

Her flannel shirt and tank top were shredded.  The demon had clawed at her skin.  Four deep, bleeding gashes ran down her right arm. Derek couldn’t do a damn thing about them at the moment. At least they didn’t bother her, not in her current state.

“Derek, come on,” Stiles pleaded.  She arched off the bed, pulling against the cuffs.  Her eyes went wide.  “Cuffs? Seriously?” 

Stiles eyelids fluttered as she tested the restraints.  _Oh my fucking god_ she moaned.   

Derek knew the moment her arousal spiked.  He growled.

“Please, Derek.” Her voice hoarse.

At any other time, without the slash marks, and maybe even with them, the sight of Stiles writhing and begging on his bed, would not have resulted in Derek standing there like a goddamn statue.  In the three years since Stiles had left for college, he might have pictured something just like this, without the slash marks, of course. (He wasn't sure about the cuffs, but that mystery was solved.  He would have been better off not knowing, all things being equal.) He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. 

“Seriously, you’re just gonna stand there?” She turned her head, looking him in the eye. “Like a fucking statue?”

Derek sighed.

Stiles rolled onto her stomach. She got up on her knees and pulled against the headboard, testing the restraint.  She arched her back.

Fuck no. Just no.  There were some things Derek couldn’t be expected to put up with --

Derek’s phone beeped.  He had never been so glad Stiles had forced him to get a cell phone. He stepped into the hallway.

Text from Scott.  _Any change?_

Derek rolled his eyes and punched out an answer. _No. It was an incubus._ _Do you have the sedative?_

_Not yet._

Derek sighed. Great fucking conversation, Scott.  Glad we talked. 

He glanced at Stiles, wondering why he was torturing himself.  He clenched his hands to keep from reaching out for her.  Derek had imagined it enough times, gripping her hips, a faint blue bruise forming beneath his fingers. His bite marks on her neck. The sounds she would make begging, pleading and he could finally –

Nope, not going to think about it. 

His claws extended.  He concentrated on the sound of blood dripping to the floor to distract himself from Stiles’ moans.  She lay down on her back again.

Fucking incubus.            

Derek wanted to blame Stiles for the whole mess, but it was probably Derek’s fault anyway. He had actually said ‘Stay here.’  What did he expect?  Stay here. He was a fucking idiot.  

Stiles had gotten that crazy ass look in her eye.  Then she blew him a kiss and charged into the fucking fray like she was storming the beach at Normandy.  

Derek had been immobile on the ground. His injuries weren’t healing as quickly as they should have.  Isaac was similarly incapacitated. Boyd was taking care of the claw marks on Erica’s chest.  There was no way Stiles would just cower behind Derek when her friends were hurt and there was another demon to take down.

The incubus had been intrigued by Stiles since the moment they had barged into his little party. Asshole. 

 “Serpentine!” Stiles had yelled as she darted out of the hotel room and down the corridor. Her red hoodie waving like a flag in front of a bull. The demon had smirked at Derek before chasing after Stiles. 

Fucking incubus.

Derek walked back into his bedroom, ignored Stiles’ moans, picked up A Dance with Dragons, and pretended to read.

Stiles rolled her hips and looked at Derek before throwing her head back on the pillow he had placed there. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” She huffed.

* * *

EARLIER

 

Stiles was enjoying her late-night Christmas break tradition -- playing CoD and eating mini-Reese’s -- when a familiar thud sounded behind her.  She sighed and pulled off her headphones. 

“What happened?”

She turned to see Derek dripping rain water on the ‘Wipe Your Paws’ doormat in front of her window.  She hadn’t seen him since summer break. Not much had changed – black hair she wanted to run her fingers through, chiseled cheek bones with a day’s stubble she wanted rub her face against, a body she wanted to climb like a tree. Yup. All systems normal.

Stiles took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart.

Derek Hale still was, probably always would be, the hottest, most attractive person she knew.  In a strange plot twist that no one really saw coming he was also a decent guy.  Once you got past his broody, guilt-ridden ‘I used to be a failwolf’ complex, he was a burning hot dude with a secret marshmallow center.     

Gah.  This whole thing was just a silly high school crush.  It really should have ended the day he turned her down.

Derek didn’t answer her.  He peeled off his leather jacket and shook out his hair.

“Timmy fell down a well?”

Derek glared at her.  It was his I’m-trying-not-to-smile glare, so she felt pretty good about it. 

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?

Stiles smiled.  “A while.” 

“There’s a succubus.”

Stiles eyes grew wide.  “Seriously?”

“Traveling with an incubus.”

“Convenient,” Stiles said, as she turned back to her computer.  “Like, they probably make a good team.  Like the perfect wingman. If it turns out the target is a lesbian, the incubus can just pass her off.  They’re probably bi, right? Seems like the most efficient way to, ah, do whatever it is they need to do.”

Derek glared.  Stiles recognized this as the ‘stop-rambling-we-need-to-run-supernatural-creatures-out-of-town’ glare.

“Can’t believe we still haven’t come across a vampire.” Stiles spun in her chair to look at him.  “You’re sure they’re not vampires?”

“Stiles, they’re not vampires.”

“Are you sure? Have you met one and not told me?”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed as if they had conversation before, because they had, many times. “I promise to call you first if I meet a vampire.”

“Good, glad we got that cleared up.” Stiles pulled up the bestiary and waited for it to load. “Wait, how did you learn a succubus and incubus had partnered up to take on the thriving metropolis of Beacon Hill?”

“Boyd, Isaac and I were getting a drink.  They showed up.  Isaac is watching them. Boyd went to get Erica from work. I came here.” Derek shrugged. “We didn’t want to confront them in a crowded bar.”

Stiles knew she should focus on the supernatural monster of the week, but she was mostly bummed they didn’t ask her to go get a drink with them.  

“Boyd wanted to talk,” Derek added, as if sensing her disappointment. “He’s really going to ask Erica to marry him.”

Stiles could hear the smile in Derek’s voice. Stiles turned, surprised to find Derek was standing right behind her.  “He has a ring and everything?”

“His grandmother’s.”

“She is going to flip out.  Erica thought it was going to be years before he asked.”

“You talk to Erica?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, every once in a while.”

Derek raised his eyebrows, but didn’t ask any further questions.

After high school, Erica had gone to Beacon Hills Community College and worked at the hospital.  She was studying to become a nurse’s aide and eventually go to nursing school.  Erica mostly called Stiles to talk about pack business and update her on the latest Derek is a normal person slash wolf now information.  ‘He goes to the Saturday market for fresh produce.’  ‘He helped me study for my chemistry exam.’  ‘He fixed Boyd’s car.’  ‘He moved Isaac into his new apartment in Humboldt.’  It was unnerving, especially since Erica had always been better friends with Derek than Stiles.

 “Scott’s useless this week,” Stiles said. “So I think we’re on our own.”

Stiles hadn’t even seen Scott the three days she’d been home. Allison was back in Beacon Hills from Paris where she was spending the year studying. As far as Stiles knew, Allison and Scott hadn’t left Scott’s apartment. 

“How’s Isaac holding up?” Stiles asked.

Derek looked away.  “He’s okay.”

“They just need to get drunk and figure this whole thing out.”

Derek turned back and gave her a leveling stare.  “Drinking isn’t a solution.”

“I’m not . . . it’s not like that.  It’s just they all know what they want and pretending they don’t is the easiest way for someone to get hurt. Isaac’s been a sad puppy since the three of them spent the summer together.”

“You talk to Isaac?”

“He calls.” Stiles sighed.  “We talk about Allison and Scott.  We talk about how Scott’s not sure about the three of them as opposed to just Scott and Allison.” 

Derek scrubbed a hand over his face.  “I wish I knew how to help him.  Mostly I buy him beer, make him food, and make sure he has enough money for books.”

Stiles knew Derek had been worried about Isaac going to Humboldt away from the rest of the pack.  Lydia was at MIT. Allison and Stiles at Berkley, and Scott, Erica and Boyd had stayed in Beacon Hills.  She knew Derek checked up on Isaac more than he did the others.  Scott was technically still the alpha, but between school and working for Deaton, Scott had little time for pack stuff.

Derek stood behind her and leaned down to read the index of the bestiary. Stiles could feel his breath on her neck.

Stiles stood up, shoving the chair back. She could hear Derek’s responding oof.  She probably looked like a spastic idiot. Well, Derek had to be used to it by now.

“I’ll get you a towel.” 

She returned from the bathroom and tossed the towel at him.  Stiles crossed her arms in front of her, acutely aware that she wore her old sweat pants with a hole in the knee, a faded Captain America t-shirt and her long, brown hair tied up in a messy bun. 

Derek fisted his shirt.  (A green Henley this time!)  He pulled it off.  Fuck, she really did have the worst luck.  She let her gaze fall on his chest, but stopped herself.  She wasn’t going to be one of those women who lusted after Derek Hale. She really wasn’t.

She needed to distract herself.  Trying to hide an attraction to a werewolf was never easy, but she had a lot of practice.  She willed her heart to stop racing.  It was just an ever-present, lingering _want_.  She had been living with it a long time. Gah.

“You can use the door now, you know.”

Derek shrugged. “I didn’t want to wake your dad.”

“You know my dad has an early shift tomorrow.”  She shook her head. “So now you’re stalking my dad.”

Derek gave her one of his Blue Steel looks. This one meant, ‘no, you idiot,’

“He’s the only one left around here that watches baseball. Sometimes we catch a game.”

“Oh, right,” Stiles walked over to her dresser and tried not to think about Derek and her dad hanging out.  She pulled out a t-shirt from the bottom drawer where she had kept a stash of larger items for when the pack needed to change into something clean. 

Stiles smirked.  “Here you go, Miguel.”

The Derek Hale eyebrows of doom were back.  “Stiles . . .” he warned.

She sat down at her computer. It was easier to deal with him when he was irritated with her.

“So a succubus and a incubus,” Stiles muttered as she started scrolling through the index of bestiary that she and Lydia had translated.  “I can’t believe this is really real.  I mean sex demons. Are you sure?”

 “Your best friend is a werewolf.”

“I know, but are you like sure, sure?”

Derek nodded.  “Seemed like their M. O. I, uh, remember learning about them.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow.  “Succubae can affect a werewolf?”

“Not like _that_ learning. At least not me.” Derek scratched the back of his neck and looked at the floor. “Peter ran across one before.” 

Instinctively she reached with her right arm to her left shoulder.  The scar tissue still itched sometimes, even though it had happened three years ago.  She told anyone who asked that it was from a car accident.  She had been with Sam for two months before he had asked.  The fact that he didn’t question a scar that looked a lot like claw marks came from a car crash should have been a sign they wouldn’t last.  I mean, she didn’t expect him to know about werewolves, but a car crash? It clearly wasn’t meant to be.

Derek put on the dry shirt.  It almost fit. It successfully distracted her from thoughts of Sam, that’s for damn sure.

“Peter didn’t talk much about it.  I’m pretty sure he was affected, but I don’t know how bad it was. How out of control he was.”

Stiles ignored Derek’s apologetic tone, and the glance he gave her left shoulder.

“Jesus, I can’t imagine what a raging sex werewolf would be like.” 

Of course at that moment she couldn’t think of anything else. It probably wasn’t supposed to make her squirm in her seat and think of a particular sex werewolf.  Really she had taken Women Studies 101; she had gotten an A-. Sex werewolves were not supposed to be a thing that she thought about. She needed to focus. She tried calming breaths as she pulled up the bestiary.  If the succubus-incubus wonder twins could affect werewolves, then this was not going to be good. The last thing they needed was an out of control pack of werewolves.

“Alright so incubi and succubae.  Lydia and I cross referenced everything, uh, sex related.  We even added a few modern additions.” Stiles spun in her chair, facing Derek again. “Does this mean sex pollen is a thing?”

“Sex pollen?” Derek asked with raised eyebrow.

“You know crazy sex pollen that makes people have sex.”  Stiles waved her hands. “There is going to be a large section of the internet that would be super excited if sex pollen was a thing.” 

“Who wants to have sex if the other person is, like, drunk with sex pollen?” 

“Uh, a large portion of the internet.”

Derek leaned over her to read the screen.  “Sounds like a consent problem.”

Oh god, Stiles thought, just when she thought Derek couldn’t get any more attractive.

“Lydia’s on a redeye so I can’t call her till the morning. There isn’t much here.  I can’t imagine anyone wants to tell an Argent about being seduced by a succubus for the family bestiary.”

Derek huffed.

“We had plans to update the bestiary . . .” Stiles trailed off. 

“It’s alright, Stiles.  You’re busy with school.”  He put a hand on her left shoulder.  She flinched, so used to trying to hide the scars that she didn't like anyone touching her there.

Derek pulled his hand away, apologizing. He moved backward putting space between them.

Stiles rubbed her eyes and turned to him.  “I’m sorry I didn't help more.”

Derek didn't take his eyes from her neck and shoulders where the hideous scars were only partially hidden under her t-shirt. He looked for a moment as if he was back in that room when he found her, bleeding to death on the warehouse floor.

Derek cleared his threat and looked away.

She hated being weak. She hated the reminder that she could be so easily taken down.

“It’s mostly been quiet.”

Stiles knew as much from Erica, but it still didn’t feel right.  Lydia and Stiles had made a lot of promises to the pack when the two of them had left for college.  They were going to update the bestiary, come home for long weekends, fight the good fight when it needed fighting, attempt contact with local packs at their respective schools.  As it turned out, after Stiles had gotten to college she had been so relieved at not fighting the monster of the week and just being a normal student, that she rarely retuned to Beacon Hills.

Derek didn’t respond. She imagined there wasn’t much for him to say.  Stiles had said she would help, and then she hadn’t. 

“This is going to take a while,” Stiles admitted. “I need to cross reference a few other sources.  There might be something in my mythology text book.”  She started pulling books out of her back pack and grabbed a few more books from her bookshelf.  She had, admittedly, left most of her resources in Beacon Hills so everything she might need was here.    

Derek walked back over to the door mat, and sat down, resting his head against the windowsill and folding his arms around his bent legs.  He closed his eyes. “I can wait.”  

She was reminded of those pictures of soldiers in the trenches from her World War I history class.  They could nod off even in the mud, among the cries and the horror.  Beacon Hills was more Sunnydale than the Somme, but she imagined Derek had gotten used to sleeping when he could.

Two hours later, Stiles pulled her notes together, sent a final text to Deaton and sat next to Derek on the floor.  It was a lot like high school, a werewolf asleep in her room while she researched some supernatural creature.  Then she, Derek and Lydia, for some reason it was always the three of them, would come up with a plan to take them down. 

Derek was sleeping, head thrown back against the window sill, drool on the corner of his mouth.  She stifled a laugh.  She missed this.  “Derek,” she said softly, prodding him with her elbow. 

He looked over at her with a glazed, sleepy eyed look. She had to remind herself to breathe. 

He shook his head, well, like a dog really. Stiles grinned.

He wiped the drool from his mouth with back of his hand.  “Not a word, Stiles.”

She held up her hand in mock defense.

“I confirmed with Deaton.  A wolfsbane mixture should slow them down.  It shouldn’t be that hard to subdue them, give the ‘this is our town’ speech and drop them somewhere outside of city limits.

Derek shook his head.  “I would rather a more permanent solution.”

“Scott,” Stiles said, shrugging. 

“I know,” he replied, sighing.  “What if they can cause permanent damage to their victims?”

“Even the Argent bestiary thinks that they are mostly harmless.  They just get off on inducing insane sex feels in their ‘victim,’ feed off of the pheromones or whatever, and then move on to the next town.” She paused.  “What did Peter tell you about them?”

Derek looked over at her.  He clenched his fists.  Stiles wasn’t sure what it was like to have to kill your uncle, twice, - god damn, she hoped that guy stayed dead – but she was sure it wasn’t pleasant.

“He treated it as a joke, but I got the sense they can definitely affect werewolves and if we need wolfsbane to subdue them. . . ”  

“I’m in,” Stiles said.  “It’s cool. All cool, like coolio.”

Derek frowned, probably at her babbling.  “Your shoulder okay?”

“Uh, yeah” Stiles answered.  They hadn’t ever talked about it.  She had left for college a few months after Derek had found her in the abandoned warehouse, where Peter pinned her down.  Peter had just started to go for her heart when Derek had found them.

“You know, Stiles-“

“-uh, has Isaac checked in?”

Derek stilled and then reached for his phone.  “Nothing new.  They’re still at the bar.  Isaac wants us to bring him food.”

 “Glad to know some things don’t change.” Stiles stood up.  “I’ve got all the ingredients here.  It shouldn’t take long to make up the mixture.  I just need to change my clothes.”

Derek stood up suddenly.  “I’ll be in the car.”

He grabbed his jacket and jumped out the window without another word.

“Yup, some things never change.”  Stiles said to the empty room. 

* * *

“You didn’t say they had a fucking pack, Stiles.” Isaac accused.

Stiles shrugged.  “I don’t think it matters.”

She ignored Isaac’s ‘are you fucking kidding me’ glance.  To be fair, one of the minions had him in a headlock with a claw at his throat. Stiles was a big enough person not to remind Isaac that he had gone for burgers instead of watching the demons.

Derek huffed, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at her as two minions held him back. 

Isaac and Derek hadn’t shifted to their beta form yet. Stiles had never been more grateful that Derek was no longer an ‘all on the count of three’ sort of guy.

Stiles rubbed the back of her neck and planned her next move.  You’d think someone, somewhere on the internet, would have mentioned that succubae and incubi had interns, for Christ’s sake. She really needed to update that bestiary. What was supposed to be a quick confrontation with two sex demons in what had to be the largest hotel suite in Beacon Hills had turned into a Mexican standoff with, yes, two sex demons, but also their five sex demon minions (all dudes, what the fuck) and a man and a woman, both human, who were so dazed with lust they didn't realize that they were being held hostage.

The succubus and incubus watched Stiles, Derek and Isaac with amusement.

They looked and acted exactly like you’d think sex demon would look and act.  No imagination these guys. 

The succubus paced in the hotel room.  She had long blond hair, a sparkling gold skintight dress and four inch heels.  She smirked, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.  Stiles was pretty sure the demon was seconds away from calling her ‘honey’ and snarling.

The incubus leaned against the fireplace mantle, looking bored. He had brown hair, green eyes and a generic, male model look. It probably worked really well for him. Stiles could admit it, the guy was handsome.  Not the _most_ handsome though. Huh. A sex demon wasn’t as attractive to her as someone who shall remain nameless.  Well, check that box.  Something to think about later. Or not think about later. 

Focus, Stiles, focus! Demons. Humans in peril.  These two literally used their looks for evil.  Stiles hated them both.

“It doesn’t change the plan.” Stiles said, walking to the center of the sunken living room.  “Standard operating procedure: confront the bad guys, show them who’s boss and run them out of town.  Mischief managed.”

“You’re delightful.” The incubus smiled, raising his drink to his lips.

The succubus shot him an annoyed look. 

“Let’s let the humans go.” Stiles said.  “We can work this out.  Mano a mano. Packo a packo.”

The incubus scoffed.  “Do the humans look like they want to leave?” 

Stiles glanced over to where the man and woman stood, back against the far wall, clutching each other trying to decipher what was going on.  They had a dazed look in their eyes when they had wandered - still clothed, thank God - from the bedroom when Stiles and the two werewolves had interrupted the party. Two of the minions stood on either side of them, ready to grab them as hostages if anything happened. 

The two couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.  The woman was molded to his side.  A faint green mist surrounded them, so Stiles would bet the fun times were about to get started.

Stiles waved her hand.  “They don’t know what they want.  You’ve sex-pollened them.”

The incubus smothered a laugh.

The succubus walked up to Stiles.  She circled the younger woman.  The minions had ignored Stiles when the three of them charged the room. She was the human, after all.  She wasn’t a threat.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, honey.”

Stiles fist pump caused some raised eyebrows around the room, and not just from the demons.

“It’s the twenty-first century.  Do I really need to explain consent to you?”

“No matter.” The succubus waved her hands as if swatting a fly.  “Although, this was a lot easier a hundred years ago.  Do you have any idea what the internet has done to us?”

Stiles took a moment to consider this was her life - discussing the difficulty the internet posed to sex demons plying their trade.

“Out of the way places are easier now.” The succubus looked around. “It’s not so bad here.  Decent hotels, a few good restaurants, and a surprisingly attractive populace for a small town in Northern California. We want to build a new pack here.”   

Derek flinched.  Stiles agreed.

“We’ve asked you nicely to leave.”  Stiles said. “We can also ask you not nicely.”

“Really? You don’t look like much of a pack to me. A couple of college students and a former alpha.”

Derek looked up at that.

The succubus threw up her hands. “Look, I’m sure we can come to an agreement to stay.” 

“No,” Stiles and Derek answered. 

“Why do you speak for the pack?” The incubus asked.

Stiles jumped.  The incubus was a sneaky fucker.  Stiles felt his breath on her neck and heard Derek’s low growl.  It had been a long time since anyone had snuck up on her.  She really was out of practice. The incubus walked around her, appraising her like a lion inspecting a mouse before playing with it. And by playing with it, Stiles meant swiping it with its claws and biting its head off.

“Old habits.”

He sniffed at her.

“You smell like that one.” The incubus added, nodding toward Derek.

The succubus laughed. 

Stiles clenched her fists. 

The succubus smiled and strolled over to Derek.  Stiles didn’t know how the sex demons subdued their prey, but she didn’t want to find out.  Derek had already put up with enough of lack of control in his life.  Stiles wouldn’t see it happen again.

“I think we’ll take our chances with your pack.  I’m sure we can work something out.”  The bitch ran a finger down Derek’s cheek.  “He would be fun to play with.” 

These villain monologues never got any better.  No imagination.

Derek looked up at her. Tilting his head in a ‘can I fucking wolf out now’ question. He was waiting for her signal, she realized. Whoa, old habits for sure. 

A knock sounded at the door. “Room service.”                                                                                                                                             

Stiles smiled.  Derek responded with a feral grin and fanged out.

Boyd and Erica slammed into the room in full beta form.

Derek knocked the heads of the two minions together.  They went down.  Thank god the werewolf had more strength than two sex demons in training.

Isaac wolfed out and elbowed his minion in the gut, and landed a punch that left the demon on the ground.   

The two humans screamed.  They gripped each other even more tightly, looking freaked out beyond belief at what they were witnessing.  The two remaining minions grabbed the humans and pulled them through the open doorway into the bedroom. Boyd and Erica chased after them.        

The succubus looked at the room in amazement.  Stiles guessed she did little actual work anymore. Stiles stifled a laugh, maybe train your interns a little better, guys. 

Stiles had a knife in her boot, laced with wolfsbane.  Before the incubus could react, he had long ago dismissed her as a threat, she pulled the knife, spun around and landed a gash in the incubus’ shoulder. 

That should do it.  Stiles watched the incubus go down.  Derek, she knew, was moving to take out the succubus behind her.  Mischief managed, Stiles thought with a grin.

But then it all went to hell, even more than usual.

Stiles and Derek turned sharply at the sound of Isaac’s yell. His minion, the one formerly on the ground, had swiped at his legs pulling him down and lunging for him. Before Derek could help him – his two minions thankfully still knocked out – the succubus who had been walking slowly backwards away from Derek’s advance pulled out a taser. Stiles cried out to warn him, but the incubus, now back on his feet, covered her mouth with one hand and gripped her right shoulder in the other.

“I don’t think there is anything you can do to help.”  The demon whispered in her ear. Stiles heart stuttered at the thought of Derek being hurt.

Stiles realized that the wolfsbane didn’t harm the demons, instead they were using it to subdue the werewolves.  Isaac should have been able to fight back by now but the wound in his leg hadn’t healed. The demons probably had wolfsbane in their claws.

The succubus tasered Derek and he fell to the ground in graceless heap.

Stiles reached out to Derek futile as she knew it was and felt the demon’s claws pierce her skin, digging into her flesh. She let out a muffled scream, the incubus still covering her mouth. Derek raised his head off the floor at the sound, but the succubus kicked him in the stomach and he was too weak to fight back.

She had been such an idiot.  These guys came prepared, Stiles realized. 

A trickle of blood ran down her arm and dripped to the floor.  She couldn’t let it end like this.

She struggled, hitting and kicking the demon. The incubus laughed at her efforts. He didn’t let up his grip on her arm.  She struggled for air.  Derek continued to fight a losing battle with the succubus. 

The incubus released his hand from her mouth, so he must not be trying to kill her yet. Stiles screamed in frustration.  Derek glanced up at her.  The succubus took advantage of his distraction and ran her claws down his chest.

He really didn’t need any more of this shit from blonde sex demons, Stiles thought.

Stiles couldn’t breathe.  The pack was going down and it was her fault.

The succubus laughed as she stood up.  “We heard the rumors of a strong, reformed Hale pack: defeating the alphas, taking on the Darach. Decided to check it out for ourselves.  Not so much anymore, though.  We need a new out of the way base and the former Hale territory seems fitting.”  She gripped Derek’s chin in her claws.  “I wonder what your parents would think.”

Stiles winced at the mention of the Hales.  Derek growled.

The sex demon glanced back at Stiles.  “We also heard you had a powerful human as a second.” She nodded to the incubus. “Kill the other ones. I want Hale.  Do what you want with the human.”

Derek should have recovered by now.  Stiles again tried to reach him, but she was stopped by a clawed hand around her throat.  She reached out to Derek and the claws tightened.

None of them were going to make it out alive.

Stiles had walked them into a trap.  These guys were prepared.  They had come to Beacon Hills to take on a diminished pack, and it look like they would win. She tried again to reach Derek, even though she knew it was futile.

“No, I don’t think he can use the help of measly human now.”  The incubus said, tracing a finger down her jaw.  Stiles started to crumple to the ground, her knees buckling.  The only thing holding her upright was the incubus’ claws.  He continued to smile and murmur into her ear about all the ways he would play with her later. She watched the blood from her wounds trickling down her arm.

It was as if the hotel room fell away and the only sound Stiles could hear was the sound of her blood dripping on the floor.  All those memories she ruthlessly pushed down came rushing back. The cold metal against her back as Peter slammed her up against the wall. Peter’s claws slowly taking apart her skin. Her screams as the muscle and bone beneath her flesh were revealed. His voice. That fucking voice.  Peter would not shut up.  He wouldn’t stop talking about his revenge against the pack. A weak pack made of humans, poorly trained betas and a fucking banshee. Peter was going to take them all down, starting with Stiles.  His claws were posed to tear her beating heart out of her chest when Derek had found them.  Derek had torn the doors off their hinges to get to her.  Derek had found her.

Derek’s howl brought her back to the present.  She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

The succubus leaned over Derek and ran her nails down his chest.   “I’ll take my time with you,” she said.

No way. No fucking way. Stiles moved back against the incubus. He relaxed into her touch.

“Humans. You are so weak. You can’t stand to watch anyone in pain.” He laughed, petting her hair. “Humans.”

Fuck you much, Stiles thought, before she slammed her steel-toed boot down on his instep and elbowed him in the gut.  Demons always forgot the classics.  She silently offered a prayer of thanks to Allison for her self-defense classes.  She kicked the demon in the face and groin as he lay on the ground.  Stiles wasn’t fooled though.  He would recover quickly. She didn’t have much time. The way he grinned at her from the floor proved he was coming for her

She picked up a fire iron from the hearth and charged the succubus. The sex demon was too busy listening to the sound of her own voice to notice.

Stiles swung at the back of the sucubus’ head. The demon fell to the floor without a cry.

Stiles rushed to Derek’s side.  “Why aren’t you healing?”

Derek glowered at her. Well, he’s not dying then.

“Wolfsbane,” he gritted out.

Fuck, she was right.  She really needed to update that bestiary.  The werewolves weren’t going to recover in time to take on the incubus.

Boyd and Erica staggered in from their fight, looking like heal.  Erica was unconscious with a gash on her back.

At least the succubus was dead. Well, Stiles always had a good arm. She peered down at the demon.  She thought of what the succubus had said to Derek, and all the horrible shit he had been through in his life.  She would kill anyone who hurt her friends.  She would never think twice about it.

She smiled at Derek.  He looked up at her with a questioning glance. 

Stiles looked around the room. The minions were dead. Isaac had finally taken out the one who clawed him, but he still hadn’t recovered from the fight and he lay heaving on the ground.  Erica was still unconscious from the succubus’ attack.  Boyd held her in his arms. No way she was going to allow Boyd to leave Erica like this.

Well, there was still one more demon to deal with and it was Stiles job to make sure no one else got hurt.

The incubus was grinning at her as he pulled himself off the ground.  There was one way to get him out of here and give the others time to recover.

If only she hadn’t been so smug.  If only she hadn’t lead them into a trap. She bit her lip. Decision made.

“Next time we’ll wait for Lydia.” Stiles whispered.

“Stay here,” Derek commanded. “Don’t do it.”

Derek tried to sit up, but he hadn’t recovered enough to stop her.  She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

She darted out of the room.  She heard Derek’s howl as she rounded the corner.

* * *

Derek was going to kill Stiles himself, as soon as could he get off the fucking floor and go after her.  The feel of her lips on his cheek lingered.  The scent of her fear hovered about him, enraging him.  Worse was the scent of her sadness, of regret and guilt, as if the pack was still her responsibility.

Derek pushed himself off the floor with a grunt.  He stood, almost doubling over from the pain. He swayed and steadied himself with a hand against the wall.  His vision almost blacked out.

“Go get her,” Boyd said as he tended to Erica.  “I’ll take care of them.”

Derek had never been more grateful that Boyd was a man of few words.  Derek would never ask Boyd to leave Erica, and Boyd would never try to stop Derek from going after Stiles.

Derek checked on Isaac to make sure he was okay.  The beta shooed him toward the door.  Derek took off in the direction Stiles had turned as she left the room, and he quickly picked up her scent.  It was the same determined Stiles, but he hadn’t remembered her being this scared or sad, even when Peter had her.  Derek had tried to forgot the feeling of despair that suffocated him when they all realized his uncle had taken his revenge on the pack by coming for Stiles first.  Derek still woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmares.

Derek rounded another corner and found the stairwell. Derek was betting that Stiles lead the demon out to the preserve.  It was behind the hotel, and it was effectively their home turf.  They would need any advantage they could get.  Derek still hadn’t healed from the claw marks and the taser.  He hobbled across the back parking lot that bordered the preserve.   

Stiles must have left the path and charged through the sloping brush.  Good girl, Derek thought as he realized where Stiles was leading the demon.  (Although if he ever said that out loud, Stiles would have his head. God, he really hoped he got a chance to have another lecture from Stiles, on any subject really. DC vs. Marvel.  Virginity as a social construct.  What she would do if she met a vampire.  Anything.)

He slid down the hill as quietly as possible.  Stiles was leading the demon to the clearing near the stream.  Before college, Stiles had come up with the idea to stash some supernatural care packages around town.  The backpacks were filled with wolfsbane, other herbs, burner cell phones, food and water, extra Adderall, bandages. Most importantly, though, they all had weapons.  He couldn’t risk getting close to the demon’s claws if he wanted a chance against him.  He still had trouble walking, and he couldn’t take another wolfsbane claw.

The stash was where had he left it last time he checked on the caches.  It was buried under leaves in a hallowed tree stump near the clearing.  He grabbed the backpack and emptied the contents.  He sent a text to the pack letting them know where he was. He grabbed the knife.  He winced as he stood.  Fuck, he really needed to never see a taser again in his life.  He still wasn’t up to full strength.  He leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, calming his breathing.  He was able to make out Stiles heartbeat.  He hoped the incubus didn’t have super-hearing.  They really needed to update that bestiary. 

He stalked toward the clearing.

 The incubus had Stiles pressed up against a tree on the far side of the clearing, one hand on her throat. Derek had to fight the instinct to howl and charge.

“He won’t be able to follow you,” the incubus taunted running a finger down her cheek.

Stiles barked a laugh.  “Spent a lot of time around werewolves, have you’?”

Derek smiled.  If he wasn’t so worried about his ability to lift his own body weight across a fucking meadow, he would have been happy to hear that she knew he would never abandon her.

“If you’re just going to keep villain monologue-ing can you let me know when you’re done?”  Stiles faked a yawn.  “You guys really need to work on your material.”

The incubus snarled. He petted her hair and Stiles flinched.

“That alpha’s scent was all over you.”

Stiles whipped her head as if the demon had slapped her. 

“I’m a sex demon.  You think I couldn’t sense your attraction to him?”

Stiles eyes grew wide.

Derek tensed.  He continued to make his way around to the clearing.  He knew Stiles was attracted him.  He also knew she pushed it down.  She clearly didn’t want Derek to know. He got it. She didn’t want to be attracted to him.  He understood better than anyone. Who would want to be attracted to a former alpha without a pack that had gotten his entire family killed? Lydia used to call him the failwolf. He hadn’t disagreed.  He knew he was attractive.  The way women and men responded to him, though, it didn’t mean much.  _It_ was just packaging, an accident of attractive parents and werewolf genes. Stiles might be attracted to him, but she clearly didn’t want to be.  If he hoped for anything else, well that was between him and his shower, sometimes his bed.

Focus, he needed to focus.  He crept out from behind a tree, close enough to touch the demon now.

“If you hurt him,” Stiles warned.

“You should be more worried about yourself.” The incubus pushed Stiles up against the tree, lifting her off the ground.

The sex demon leaned in to kiss Stiles as Derek howled.  Derek was gratified by the look of surprise on the asshole’s face when he came out from behind the tree line and stabbed him in the back. The demon went down. Derek made sure he was dead before turning to Stiles.

Stiles slid to the ground. “Thanks,” she breathed.

She curved her mouth into a smile. Faint green sparkles seemed to hover around her lips. Oh no, Derek thought.  She closed her eyes and licked her lips.

“Sex pollen,” she said in a daze. “I told you.”

She turned her full gaze to Derek. He looked in her whiskey-colored eyes.  He couldn’t breathe. The full force of her attraction hit him like a wave. Everything she tried to stop, the attraction that she clearly didn’t want. He could feel all of it.  He couldn’t help but sway towards her. He leaned in to breath her scent.

Derek caught himself before he did anything he would regret, like kiss her.  Or not regret, which was probably worse. Fuck, the way she licked her lips and tracked his movements.  Her eyes shined, pupils blown. She ran her hands up his arms and gripped his biceps. Derek let out a breath.  This was not good.

Derek caught the scent of the blood on her arms.  Christ, he really was a failwolf.  He checked the wounds on her shoulder and back. He drew out some of the pain. He needed to get her home where he could clean the wounds and bandage her before the Sheriff saw her. Fuck, the Sheriff could not see her like this. He could stand and carry her now that his injuries from the succubus has finally healed. He texted the pack with an update.

Stiles reached up and upped his cheek, her touch feather-light. He closed his eyes.  This was all going to be over soon. He could deal with this. He opened his eyes.  Stiles licked her lips. Unable to stop himself he held her face in his hands.

Stiles eyes grew wide. “Derek.”

“Fuck,” he breathed.  He dragged his thumb against her lower lip.  They were as soft and as full as they looked.  Her tongue swept out and caught the rough skin of his thumb. Unable to stop himself, he chased the heat of her mouth. She looked at him from beneath her lashes. She continued to look up at him as she swirled her tongue and sucked his thumb between her lips.  She moaned.  Derek pulled his hand back to put his arms around her.  He pulled her against him. Derek leaned in to kiss her, his lips barely brushing hers as he caught the tell-tale green mist surrounding her.

Fuck, he moved back.  Stiles whimpered at the loss of contact.  He scrubbed a hand over his face.

He would deal with it later.  When they were all safe, when everyone’s injuries had healed, when Stiles was back in Berkeley, then he would go out for a beer with Boyd, curse the fact that he couldn’t get drunk, never mention Stiles’ name and then Boyd would clap him on the shoulder before they parted ways without a word. Boyd was awesome that way.

Derek stood.  Stiles followed him, reaching out for him as she swayed on her feet.  Derek scooped her up in his arms, bridal style. 

She snuggled into his arms, and seemed to breath in the scent of him.

“Don’t wanna forget,” she mumbled. 

He carried her through the preserve back to the hotel.

Boyd’s car idled in the parking lot. Isaac and Erica were conscious, but their wounds hadn’t healed.

Boyd leaned out the window.  “I’m taking them to Deaton’s.  Scott and Allison are coming to deal with the demon bodies.  I told them about the one in the preserve.” 

“The humans?” Derek asked, trying to ignore Stiles burrowing into his neck, breathing in his scent. She was straddling him now.

“They, uh . . .”  Boyd shook his head.  “They got a little angry, when we tried to separate them.”

“A little angry,” Isaac said, dumbfounded.  He held up his arms.  “Most of these are from where they kicked and clawed me when we tried to separate them.”

“They fucking attacked us.” Erica called out from the passenger seat. “I think the sex pollen gives them super strength or stamina or something.” She held up Boyd’s arms so Derek could see the damage.

“Stiles okay?” Boyd asked.

“She’ll be fine.  She isn’t hurt, exactly.”

Stiles moaned and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.

“If she got hit with the sex pollen, then it’s going to be a long night.” Erica called from the passenger seat. “You need to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.  Those guys got fucking crazy.”

“She didn’t get a full dose.”

Boyd’s eyebrows went up. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Of course.”

Boyd, Isaac and Erica gave him matching incredulous stares.

“I’m not going to do anything.”

“We know.” Erica said.  “That’s not what we’re worried about.  But you, you’ll be okay?”

If Erica was checking on his emotional well-being . . . then fuck, he really was screwed.

“I’m fine. Call me later after you get checked out.”  He turned around to prevent anyone else asking him about his feelings.

Derek got Stiles into the car which was challenging because she didn’t want to let go of him. He put her down in the leather seat, and fastened the seatbelt.  She breathed in deeply and reached up to hold his face in her hands.

“He believed me, when I told him it was a car crash.”

Derek had no idea what she was talking about, but the grip on his biceps told him that she didn’t want him to leave until she said what she needed to say.

“Sam. He believed me.  There are claw marks on my chest, Derek.  Terrible, ugly scars.”

Derek was pretty sure Stiles wasn’t going to remember any of this, but he couldn’t just hear her talk like this without answering.

“Sam sounds like an idiot and there is nothing my uncle could have done to make you ugly.”

Stile smiled at that.  She kissed his cheek, but he slipped out of her grasp before she could nuzzle into his neck.  There were some things he just couldn’t handle.

* * *

Derek heard the front door open, and he quickly got up to meet the others in the living room. He shut the bedroom door behind him.  He didn’t want anyone else seeing her like this.

“Is she alright?” Scott asked. 

“She’ll be okay. You got it?”

“Yeah,” Scott held up the syringe.  “Want me to?”

“I’ll do it.” Derek answered.

Allison gave him a pitying look.  Great, everyone had figured it out except Scott. 

“No problems at the hotel?” Derek asked.

“We took care of it.” Allison answered.  “Boyd and Erica went home.  Isaac is at Scott’s apartment.”

Derek didn’t miss the look that passed between Scott and Allison.  Stiles would have smiled.

As if on cue, Stiles called out his name.

“I better . . .”  He gestured toward the bedroom.

Scott looked startled.  Allison put a hand on his arm. “We’ll go.”

If she understood how he felt about Stiles she understood that he had to be the one to do it.

“Call if you need anything.”

Derek turned and walked to his bedroom, hearing the front door shut.

Stiles sighed in relief when he appeared.  “Thank God. Please just let me out of these things.” She tested the restraints again. “Or not. This could be good. Fucking great, actually.”

Derek paused.

“Derek, please, get the fuck over here.”

He walked to the edge of the bed.

She looked up at him.  “Please,” she whispered.

She quieted when he leaned down.  He heard her intake of breath, as he kissed her collarbone. Then, without warning, he plunged the syringe in her arm.

Stiles cried out before Derek grabbed her arm to siphon the sting away.

“Fuck you, Hale.” She looked up at him, her eyes glazed. Derek could hear her heart beat slow as her eyes started to close. “That hurt.”

She fell asleep.

Derek took off the leather handcuffs, working quickly.  Her wrists were rubbed raw.  He grabbed bandages and a clean cloth.  He cleaned and bandaged the small wounds.  Then did the same with the wounds caused by the incubus’ claws. He took off her boots and pulled a quilt over her.

He sat in the leather chair. He didn’t bother with the pretense of a book this time.  It wasn’t creepy to watch her sleep.  They had just battled two sex demons for Christ’s sake.  He had a right to be careful.  I’m not Edward Cullen, he thought.  The last twenty-four hours caught up with him and he closed his eyes. Really, I’m not.

* * *

Stiles opened her eyes. Her mouth felt cottony and disgusting.  This had to be the worst hangover she’d ever had. She saw a glass of water on the bedside table.  It taunted her.  She needed water, but she needed to stay here a little longer. She was so comfortable wrapped in a soft quilt that smelled heavenly.  She inhaled. They should bottle this. Give it to sad people, she thought. Oh god, she realized, sitting up abruptly. The heavenly smell was Derek. She was in Derek’s bed. The last thing she remembered was a face-off with two sex demons in a hotel room. 

She regretted being upright.  Bed was so much better.  The Derek-smell cuddly-quilt bed was so much better than anything in her life ever really, but she had to find out if everyone was okay.  Oh god, the sex demons.  She threw off the covers.  She saw the bandages on her wrists and realized Derek must have restrained her.  She had a flash of memory of the incubus trapping her against the tree.  Oh Christ, she had been sex-pollened. Somehow she was okay and somehow she had ended up back at Derek’s apartment.

Oh god.  He must had seen her while she was in her sex-pollen state.  She didn’t remember what she had said to Derek, or anyone else for that matter.  Christ, the pack wouldn’t bring it up right?  This was part of the don’t ask, don’t tell part of battling supernatural creatures? Don’t remind your friend what she told the former alpha when she was sex-pollened. Right?

This could not get any more mortifying.  Bandages covered her right shoulder.  She could feel another on her back.  Her arms were sore, and she realized that must have been from the restraints.  She didn’t hurt anywhere else, except her pride.  She hadn’t had sex.  Good, that was good. Now, she was alone in Derek’s bedroom.  Her head pounded.  Water, water. She needed water.  She downed the glass and the two aspirin Derek had left.

Of course she finally slept in his bed and he had slept somewhere else.

She stood up and swayed on her feet. She really wanted a shower.  She glanced around for her phone but didn’t find it.  Someone should have left a note, right? Like all your friends are sex-crazed weirdoes but we’re all safe.  Seriously who doesn’t leave a note after a face-off with two sex demons?

She didn’t see her phone anywhere.  She even braved the insane sunlight coming through the windows in the living room, but there was no cell phone.  Where the was everyone? Her jeep wasn’t out front, neither was Derek’s car.  Derek had no land line.  Stiles realized this was because she had made fun of him for it.  

Fuck it, she wasn’t going to do anything without a shower and some coffee first.  Then she would find out which of her friends were sex-crazed weirdoes and take it from there. 

She walked into Derek’s bathroom. He had left a pile of clean towels, fresh bandages and clothes for her.  There was a t-shirt she must have left at the lot during high school and a pair of Derek’s sweats. All washed and neatly folded.  She turned on the water.  The hot steam filled the bathroom and enveloped her.  She already felt better.  She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, closing her eyes and letting the water wash over her.  She opened her eyes. The water circling the drain was red.

She couldn’t hold back the sob.  Tears started before she could stop them.  She was glad no one was in the loft to hear her.  There was just altogether too much blood in her life.  She still hadn’t even meet a vampire yet.  She laughed then sank to the floor of the bathtub.  The water washed her skin clean.  She tried not to think of the nightmares that would come. If she lived through Peter, then she would live through two sex-demon assholes. Her fucking life. 

She stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out.  After clean clothes and fresh bandages, she felt better. Now she had to figure what happened.

She heard the front door open.

“Thank fucking God,” she called running into the kitchen.

Derek stood there, holding a chocolate milkshake, a strawberry milkshake and a take-out bag from Mar’s Diner. 

“You went for food?”

Derek nodded, not able to meet her eyes.

“You went to Mar’s Diner?”

Derek raised the bag and leveled a are-you-a-fucking-idiot glare at her.

“You, who told me that curly fries would stop my heart one day. You, who made me drink a protein shake with kale. Kale, Derek. You drove across town to get my favorite curly fries and milkshake. Across town.”

“I got myself a milkshake too.” He said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for Derek to suck on a straw of ice cream deliciousness. 

“Well, hand it over then.” Stiles made grabby hands.

He huffed and passed the bag and the milkshake over.

She sat at the counter stool and opened the bag.  She practically moaned when she saw the burger and curly fries.  She grabbed the curly fries, but they burned her hands they were so hot. She tore a bite out of the burger and took a long pull of the chocolate milkshake.

“Oh God, brain freeze, brain freeze” Stiles moaned.  She blew on the fries and stuffed a few in her mouth.

Derek cleared his throat.

“What?” she asked.

Derek just stared at her and shook his head.

She would be embarrassed, but Derek had seen her eat before so the mystery was definitely gone.

She moaned.  “These are so good.”

Derek set the coffee pot on the counter a little more forcefully than altogether necessary.

“Oh my god, who died? Are Erica and Isaac okay? What aren’t you telling me? Why did you get me the fucking curly fries, Derek?”

Derek turned around from the counter.

“No one died. Isaac and Erica are fine.”

“Oh thank god,” she said, swallowing. “You had me going there.”

Derek leaned against the counter and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Stiles ate some more fries.  “Oh god what did I do? Did I come on to Scott or something horrible?”

Derek cringed.

“Seriously? Scott?” Stiles spit out the fries. “Oh God, I can’t take this. He’s like my brother. I can’t. I’ll never be able to look him or Allison again. This is the worst. I can’t.” 

She wiped her tongue with the napkin and looked up. 

Derek’s shoulders shook as he tried, but failed, to hold in his laughter.

Stiles would have been glad to see the smile on his face if she wasn’t so pissed at him.

“You asshole.”

“You didn’t come on to Scott.  He didn’t even see you when you were, you know. . . We got you home and you stayed here during the worst of it.  I texted the Sheriff to say you were staying at Scott’s last night.  Deaton says the night will come back to you, but slowly.” He scratched the back of his neck.  He looked up. “Isaac stayed with him and Allison last night.”

“Aha” Stiles pumped her fist in victory. “I knew it.”

Derek didn’t even try to hide his smile this time.

“Then why the fries?” Stiles asked as she found the straw with her tongue and took another pull of her milkshake, brain freeze be damned.

Derek shrugged. “I just thought you might like it.”

Stiles looked down at the burger, fries and shake.  This was pity food.  Derek Hale had turned her down in her sex-crazed state, and he had felt sorry for her.  She tried to ignore the lump in her throat.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice small.

“Don’t mention it,” Derek answered.  He punched the start button on the coffee maker as if it was his own personal nemesis.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t better prepared for last night. That was stupid.”

“None of us were prepared.”  Derek sighed.  “Scott and Allison took care of clean up.”

“The humans?”

“You’re all fine.”

She dropped the fry she was holding.  Right, she was stupid human who got sex-crazed, sex-pollened by an incubus because she led her friends into a trap.  She palmed her closed eyes.  She was such an idiot.

She scrubbed a hand over her face and tried not to remember what she had said to Derek last night.

She looked up at Derek.  “I’m sorry, I know you don’t . . . ”

Derek sighed.  He looked at her with concern, like he was worried about her.  Her heart stuttered.  She really thought she would be over him by now.  She thought her heart had broken enough times with Derek, but apparently, she still had at least one more round to go.

“Don’t what?” He asked.

“Don’t think of me that way,” she huffed a laugh that wasn’t convincing even to her own ears. “It must have been a nightmare taking care of me.”

“Don’t think of you _what_ way?” He opened a kitchen cupboard, the door slamming against the wall.

She pointed her finger at him, realizing too late that she was imitating her dad.  “Don’t play dumb. You always play dumb.  I’m tired of it.”

He braced his hands on the counter.  “You think I don’t want you?”

“Derek, you turned me down.”

“I thought you knew that consent is like an important thing, especially for me, of all people.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry. Not that, not last night.”  Stiles stumbled over her words. “I know you would never take advantage of anyone like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” He asked. She couldn’t remember the last time Derek had asked her this many questions in a row.

“I mean before college.”

Derek slammed a mug on the counter.  “You mean when you wandered over here drunk the night before you drove to Berkley with Allison?”

“I wasn’t drunk. It was just some liquid courage to get me over here.” Stiles tried to remind herself to breath. “I told you everything.”

“You were drunk and leaving for college five hours later.”

“I thought you felt it too.”

“Of course I fucking felt it.” Derek turned to face her.  “I just wasn’t going to do anything about it when you were half drunk and leaving for college in five hours. You wanted to leave.” Derek ran his hands through his hair. 

Stiles had to stop herself from walking over to him and reaching out to him.

 “You could have gone to BHU with Scott but you didn’t. You chose Berkley.  Peter almost killed you. Do have any idea what I . . .? We couldn’t find you. You almost died. I can’t . . you wanted to leave.  I wasn’t going to keep you, no matter how much I want you.”

“I didn’t know. I’m, wow. . . I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Derek said, leaning against the counter. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed to turn in on himself.

Stiles jumped off stool. “Want? Present tense, want? Like for realsies?”

Derek scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yes. For realsies.”

It wasn’t fair that Derek was always his most devastating when saying the most ridiculous things.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Derek shrugged.

“Wait. What?”

“I know you don’t want me, Stiles. Not anymore.”

“You’re a werewolf. Every time I see you I want to climb you like a tree. What do you mean I don’t want you?”

“You didn’t hide it, Stiles.  I knew you were attracted to me. I also knew you didn’t want to be. I knew you kept trying to turn it off.”

Stiles sat back down on the stool.  She was such an idiot. What must he have thought? 

“What a mess.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed.

“You don’t get it, you big idiot.  I want you.  I’ve always wanted you. But I know you don’t like it.”

Derek tilted his head at her as if she was speaking another language.

“The way people look at you. Men and women, I’ve seen it, they treat you like a piece of meat.”  Stiles stood up and walked around the counter.  “I didn’t want you to think I was that superficial, and after you turned me down--”

“--you chose to go to Berkley and you were half drunk.”

“Yes, I get that now.” Stiles took a deep breath.  “It’s just, the people who look at you and want you. Those people don’t know you. They just see the outside parts.  Which are awesome, by the way, go team Derek. But I would want you if you looked like Coach Finstock. Greenburg even.”

Derek couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that escaped him. 

Stiles beamed.

“You’re this amazing person, Derek. Anyone who had been through what you have, would probably just drink themselves into a stupor. You have an apartment with real furniture and you used to live in an abandoned train car. We really need to rethink that landline though.  You might have been on to something.

“My dad is trying to get you to join the sheriff’s office.  You would be a huge help what with all the ‘mountain lion’ attacks around here.”

And the betas? Isaac is going to graduate from college and his dad used to lock him in a freezer.  As soon as Scott and Allison figure out the three of them are a polyamory match made in heaven, he’s going to be set. 

“Erica and Boyd are getting married.  You talked to Allison about werewolf sex for fuck’s sake.  I couldn’t decide whether to give you a hug or a gold medal for that one. I know you talked to her about more than knots—“

\--knots aren’t real Stiles.  We can never speak of this again.”

“I know that now, but we didn’t then. You would not believe what a scary place the internet is for a girl thinking about dating a werewolf. Besides, Allison had decent advice when I started dating in college, and I know she didn’t get it from Scott or her fucking family.”

Derek cringed at the mention of the Argents.

Stiles walked up to Derek, gripping his shoulders and trying to meet his eyes as he stared at the floor.

“None of that was your fault.  If I could, I would raise Kate Argent from the dead so I could kill her again.  I would tear her limb from limb, slowly, and I would not lose any sleep over it. In fact, I would probably sleep better.  I would do it again the next day, if necessary. If it meant you would be safe.”

Stiles realized it’s kind of a fucked up thing to say, but Derek has always understood her.

His face gets this soft, peaceful look on it.  “Thanks,” he whispers.

He pushes her hair out of her face and leans in.  Stiles can’t really think about anything but his lips brushing hers. So much softer than she ever imagined. Finally.

Derek pulls back. “Greenburg, really?”

“Really.” Stiles breaths, before jerking back. “But I’m super glad you’re you. I cannot wait to get all over that. I just want you to know if a witch shoots a Greenburg spell at you, I will still want you. I’m excited that you’re, you know, you. Don’t want you to have any doubts about that.”

Stiles can feel the smile on Derek’s lips as he leans in to kiss her.  “Stiles, you can climb me like a tree later, now you just need to kiss me.”

So she does. 

And it is so good. God, kissing Derek is so much better than she thought it would be, and she thought about it a lot.

His lips are soft, so much softer than she expected.  His touch is light until he licks into her mouth and she responds.

Derek runs his hands through her hair, holding her close as if she’s something precious.  He deepens the kiss.  She’s standing between his legs as he leans back against the counter, but she wants more. She wants all of him. She snakes her arms around his neck. Derek groans when she nips his lower lip between her teeth. 

The kiss turns filthy after that.  They are both open mouthed and panting.  Derek presses kisses into her neck. Sucking and licking at the skin. She’s sure she will have marks there later.  Stiles needs more, needs to get closer.  Derek sensing her urgency lifts her legs and pulls her up so that she is straddling him.  He turns around and sets her on the counter.  She’s above him now, her hair cascading over him.  He’s smiling at her as he kisses her and Stiles doesn’t ever think she’s been this happy. 

“Stiles.” He moans just as he pulls back to push her hair out of her face.

She’s just staring at him. His pupils blown. His normally perfect hair is mussed. His lips are swollen and she regrets that they will heal quickly.  She likes him like this. Imperfect and a little dazed, looking like he can’t believe his luck.

“Mine,” she says, leaning in to kiss Derek as he laughs at her.  She moans his name as he leaves a mark at the base of her throat.

Which is all to say, they are a little distracted. Which is why they don’t hear the door open.

“Hey,” Stiles hears.

She looks up to see Scott and Allison walking into the loft, quickly followed by Erica and Boyd.  Scott looks dumbfounded. Allison looks like she saw this coming all along. Erica is grinning.  Boyd is stoic like he usually is, but with the tinniest of smiles. 

Stiles slides off the counter. Derek still hasn’t turned around.  He leans his forehead into hers.

“We talked about this last night, Derek.” Scott barks.

Derek and Stiles break apart.

“There’s no more sex pollen.” Stiles says.

At the same time Derek says. “I would never do that.”

Erica laughs.  “We know Derek. Relax.”

Stiles and Derek separate. Derek finally turning around to face the others. 

Erica walks toward them. “Besides you two finally getting together is not the most exciting thing to happen last night.”

She waves the engagement ring on her left hand almost squealing with joy. 

Boyd’s face has the smallest of smiled on it. Stiles thinks this might be the most exciting thing to happen in the last twenty-four hours.  Boyd is practically beaming at Erica’s happiness.

Allison gushes over the ring.  Stiles pulls Boyd into a hug as Scott slaps him on the back.

“Hey,” Erica yells in mock offense.  “Mine.  This is all mine.  I got this all locked up.”

Boyd chuckles.  Holy smokes, what is it with this day? 

Derek has been standing back, just a little apart from the rest of them.  Erica pulls him into a fierce hug, whispering something into his ear.  It is low enough that Stiles thinks even the other werewolves can’t hear.  When they break apart, Erica is wiping tears from her eyes and she walks back to put an arm around Boyd. 

“So this is for real?” Scott glances between Stiles and Derek.

“Yes, for realsies.” Stiles answers, as she reaches over to hold Derek’s hand in hers.

“If you hurt my best friend . . .” Scott starts.

“He wouldn’t --” Stiles interjects.

Scott is in full best friend mode, which makes Stiles want to smile at his fierce puppy look, but also maybe throw up her hands in exasperation.

“What about when you go back to school?”

Stiles feels Derek tense. 

“What are you, my dad?”

“Yeah, what about that? What’s the Sheriff going to think?”

“Derek’s not going to hurt me.”

Derek tenses again.  Stiles squeezes his hand.

Allison pats Scott on his arm.  “It’s fine.  Besides, Stiles, should be more worried about Lydia than her dad.  We’re going to the airport to pick her up.”

“Fuck, she’s going to kill me for going after sex demons without her.”

“She’s not going to be pissed,” Erica interjects.  “She’s going to win the pool on when you two finally get together. I think the cash will help.”

“A betting pool. All of you?” Stiles asks.

Derek is suspiciously silent. She turns to him. “You knew about this.”

Derek shrugs.  “Boyd talks when he gets drunk.”

Erica looks at her fiancé like he grew a second head.  Boyd shrugs.

Stiles shakes her head. “This day could not get any weirder.”

“I knew you two had a gossip session without me.” Erica huffs.

Derek puts an arm around Stiles and kisses the top of her head.  Scott tenses. 

“No one else thinks this is weird? Seriously? It’s weird.”

“How’s Isaac this morning?” Derek asks.

Stiles could kiss him for the pained look that passes Scott’s face. Scott and Allison look at each other. 

Allison starts laughing. “He was feeling pretty good when we left him.  He needed his rest.”

“I knew it,” Stiles shouts and pumps her fist. She wants to bask in Scot’s uncomfortable silence as payback for him grilling Derek, but she is a bigger person than that, especially when she has things, no people, no a person, to do.

“Seriously this is a great reunion and all.  I’m glad everyone is safe but Derek and I need our special, alone time before everyone is coming to my house for Christmas Eve dinner.”

Allison laughs.  She hugs Stiles, whispering ‘finally.’  Stiles chooses to ignore this. Scott walks out, shaking his head.  Boyd claps Derek on the shoulder without saying anything else. 

Erica hugs Stiles. “If you break his heart, I will tear out your entrails.”

Stiles smiles as the other woman kisses her on the cheek. 

“If I hurt him, you should.” Stiles whispers in Erica’s ear.  The other woman nods.

Boyd and Derek pretend they couldn’t hear the exchange, but Derek squeezes her hand. 

The front door shuts. 

Stiles turns to Derek and points toward his bedroom.  “Let’s go.  We have six hours before we have to be at my house for Christmas Eve dinner and, you know, see my dad and think about the baby Jesus. Shit, we have to talk to my dad.”

“Four, and I don’t think your dad will be too surprised.” Derek says as he pulls Stiles down the hallway.

Stiles tilts her had at him. “Won’t be surprised?”

Derek scratches the back of his neck. “Probably not.”

Stiles wants to ask him about that, but Derek stops suddenly to take off his t-shirt.  He fists it like it personally offended him.  God, when they have more time she is going to make him do that over and over again. Not that she wants to objectify him. Only a little.

“Why four?” She asks untying Derek’s sweats that hang low on her hips. 

Derek pauses, staring at her hands. 

She snaps her fingers at his face to get his attention, but his eyes are sort of glazed over. “Why four? Stilinksi Christmas Eve dinner starts at 5 o’clock.”

“I told your dad we were cooking.  Hurry up.” He starts laughing, “or I will make you run suicides.”

“I knew I would regret that Finstock comment,” she says under her breath, pulling her tank top over her head.

“I can hear you,” Derek responds.

She’s going to have a lot to learn about dating a werewolf.  Stiles follows Derek into his bedroom still trying to untie the knot on the sweats.  “I cannot seem to . . .”

Derek lets out a frustrated huff and pulls her towards him.  He slices through the offending knot with his claw. He grabs the ties before the sweatpants can fall loose around her hips. 

Stiles lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

He cocks his head at her, as if he isn’t sure he really sure he gets this.

Stiles is tired of waiting.  She waited until she was eighteen for his sensibilities. (Her dad was the sheriff, after all.)  Then she waited while she was at Berkley wondering if he would ever want her and hoping that her feelings for him would diminish. They only got stronger as she got older, the more she realized what he had gone through and how far he had come.  She was tired of waiting.

“Derek,” she whispers hands on her hips.

He looks up, and Stiles had to stop herself from smiling at the confusion on his face.

She pulls off her shirt, and he hitches a breath. 

“You can let go now,” she says. 

He drops the ties, and her pants fall and she’s completely naked in front of him now.  Before she has a chance to be self-conscious to wonder what he thinks of her scarred and imperfect body, he pulls her to him forcefully and claims her mouth in a bruising kiss.

She lets him take control and he grips her hips as if she might move away.  As if she would ever want to leave the warmth of his body and the feel of his skin under her fingertips.  She wants it all, and she isn’t going to wait anymore.

* * *

LATER

 

Stiles is on the loveseat with Derek’s arm around her.  Christmas Eve dinner had been a large gathering: Lydia, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Allison, Scott and his Mom, Stiles and her dad. Now everyone was sacked out in the living room watching A Christmas Story.

The Sheriff had not been surprised about her and Derek. At all. Stiles was pretty sure her dad had muttered “about damn time” under his breath. What exactly had the two of them talked about during all those baseball games? 

The Sheriff pointed to the two of them, and started talking about adult choices.  When he began the ‘do we need to talk about protection’ talk, Stiles put her head in her hands and wondered if she could die of mortification.  Derek just shook his shoulders trying not to laugh out loud at Stiles’ misery, until the Sheriff reminded Derek that he had a gun collection and wolfsbane bullets.  (“Seriously Dad? You had to go there?”) Derek snapped to attention after that. He muttered ‘yes, Sir’ and ‘no, Sir’ at the appropriate times.  Satisfied he had completed his fatherly duty, the Sheriff asked Derek to get him a beer – which werewolf did, the kiss ass – and reminded them both that Stilinski Family Christmas Eve dinner starts at 5 o’clock.  Then he left to watch football in the living room while Stiles and Derek cooked.

Stiles is still amazed that she is sitting watching a movie with the pack and Derek’s arm around her shoulders.  Derek stirs, kisses the top of her head.  She sees Scott grimace out of the corner of her eye. 

“Be right back,” Derek says.  His voice is quiet.

She hears the backdoor slam. Her father glances at her and gestures that Stiles should follow. God, now her dad was giving her dating advice.  She scrambles off the couch.  Erica smiles at her, snuggling further under Boyd’s arm.

The backdoor slams behind her.

Derek doesn’t turn around.  He’s standing in the backyard, looking out at the clear, night sky.

She walks up and stands next to him. She’s learned by now that he will talk when he wants to.

“When do you go back to school?”

“After New Year’s.  Classes don’t start until mid-January.”

He’s quiet after that, and she wishes again she could know what is going on his head.

“I only have a semester left.”

He turns to look at her.

“I’m graduating early.  I’ve been taking extra class since Freshman year.  Turns out you can get a lot of school work done when you aren’t trying to battle supernatural creatures.  Besides, with Allison gone this year, I don’t get out much.  College is great and all, but it’s not home.  I’m already looking for a job for this summer.  I think I can get an unpaid position at the library. Yay, college education”

Derek just continues to stare at her.

“And you’ve been getting so good with your words lately.  I feel like this is a step backwards.”

“You don’t have to come back,” he grits out between clenched teeth. 

“Are you kidding me?”  Stiles tries not to be offended.  This is Derek.  If he wasn’t martyring himself, then they would have to worry about some kind of body-inhabiting alien creatures.  They probably need some kind of code word for that. Christ, her life.

Derek huffs.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”  She sighs.  “I’ve always planned on coming back.  I’m not leaving my dad, the pack, and, uh-”

Derek raises an eyebrow.

“You, you big idiot.” She says, hitting him in the arm to get her point across.

He relaxes. The tension in his shoulders finally goes down from code red - threat imminent to the standard, code yellow - all systems alert.

Stiles reaches over and puts her hand in his. 

“It’s okay. I’m scared too.” Stiles says.

* * *

Derek doesn’t know how to respond.  He knows he should something reassuring.  If this was a movie, then he would say something perfect and the music would swell and they would kiss.  But he’s Derek, the failwolf.  He’s a walking disaster. This is the happiest he can remember being since, well, everything, since Laura, since the fire, but he’s mostly terrified. 

He squeezes Stiles’ hand.

As Erica likes to remind him, he is basically a functioning person slash werewolf now.  He’s already taken the job at the Sheriff’s Department.  He just hasn’t told anyone yet. He’s got an apartment and friends and a pack. He’s not the alpha but he’s happier to just help out where he can without the pressure of being in charge, frankly.

He looks over at Stiles. She’s not bothered by his silence.  No tension, no accelerated heart rate, the only emotion coming from her is a calm kind of happiness.  She’s just okay standing there, holding his hand, while he does nothing to fill the silence.

Stiles lifts up their hands. “I’ve pretty much wanted this since I’ve met you.”

Derek smiles at that.  He would agree, but shouldn’t say that out loud.  They met when she was sixteen.  The Sheriff is less than twenty-five feet away. Even without the supernatural hearing, the man is intimidating enough.  No reason to run the risk.

Stiles continues.  “I mean, I tried.  I gave it the ol’ college try.  I hooked up a couple of times.  I dated Sam for almost all of sophomore year.  It never really took.”

“You never brought him home.”

“Are you kidding me? I was trying to get over you. I wasn’t going to put you two in the same room.”

Derek grins.  He’s pretty sure Stiles can fell the smug satisfaction he must be radiating.  He pulls Stiles in close and nuzzles her neck.

“I left after Peter, because I couldn’t look at the scars and be reminded how weak I was, am –“

“You’re not weak,” Derek interjects, moving back and scrubbing a hand down his face.  “It was my fault.”

“Oh my God, you need to stop with this martyrdom thing.  Just get over yourself.  He was a megalomaniac with anger issues.  He would never have stopped until he was the alpha.”

“But he went after you first.” 

“Hello, I’m the human.  He was starting small before taking on the rest of you.”

“That’s not why he went for you first.”

Stiles stares at him incredulously.  “What are you taking about?”

“He knew. He knew how I felt about you.”

Stiles eyes widen in surprise. “You really did like me.”

Derek just stares at her.  For a straight-A student, Stiles can really miss the obvious.  “If you had died, challenging me would not have been difficult.  The pack would have been weakened without you. 

“Huh,” Stiles answers. “Wait, so Peter knew you liked me before I did? I can’t believe this.  Did everyone know before me?”

“Can’t you take anything seriously?  You could have died. In Berkley you’re safe. At least there I knew you’re safe.” 

“I’d rather be here with you in the Sunnydale of Northern California –“

“-- I don’t know what that means.”

“It means I’ll finish school, but I’m coming back here and you’re stuck with me.”

There’s no uptick in Stiles heartbeat. There’s nothing. She’s telling the truth.

“That’s right, big guy. I’m telling the truth.  Do you want me to do it again? I can do this all night.”

Derek smiles.  “There are other things I would rather do all night.”

Stiles barks a laugh.  “O my god, a joke.  It’s a Christmas miracle.” 

Derek pulls Stiles into his arms. He leans his forehead against hers for a moment, just breathing the same air, content to hold her.

“Mine,” he whispers as he nuzzles Stiles neck in that sensitive spot he loves. 

“Hey there,” Stiles whispers.  “I wouldn’t want you to get ahead of yourself.”

But Derek can hear the smile in her voice and the telltale skip in her heart revealing the lie.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
